Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we.
It’s been an odd week this week. I have barely been able to get to my blog as life seemed to get in the way. I found my days filled, from morning until night, and most nights I found myself looking longingly at my blog but losing the battle and having to sleep instead. In the past I would have beat myself up about it but this time I simply succumbed and let life do it’s thing. It did not look like a fight I was going to win so I chose to not have the fight.
Things feel a little more under control now though and I have managed to post a couple of pieces but it’s the piece below I have found myself struggling with. I started it and flew through those lines, quite excited by the idea and really keen to get it written out. Five days later however and the energy I felt at the time and the ideas that were forming have disappeared. I had made a few notes but I am thinking that the moment has passed and it will be a piece I may never finish. I have only ever had one other piece like that and again, it was a piece that I let lie dormant for a few days and the flames turned to embers and were eventually extinguished.
I’m okay with that though, I have learned something about my own creative process and will hopefully not make the same mistake again. I guess the title of this works in many ways…
INEXPRESSIBLE NOTIONS
In the everyday back and forth of life Johnathan Cholmley-Ambers was a man who simply went with the flow. He was as forthright as he was opinionated, which was not at all, and in most situations could largely be relied upon to cause neither a fuss, a drama nor a kerfuffle. His friends, of which he had exactly none, would likely have described his as wet if they existed and those who would count themselves as colleagues would often forget his name so forgettable was he.
It therefore came as a surprise to him, as much as those who knew him, when one morning he awoke and quite simply decided that today he would speak his mind. He did not know why today of all days he had made this decision but a decision it was and he took to it with much aplomb. It was also somewhat of a revelation that he held such strong opinions, because he was pretty certain that he had not historically felt so passionately about anything at all.
He awoke, showered and dressed and very briefly considered having breakfast but then decided that the marmalade on toast could go screw itself and instead opted to head out to work with an empty belly and a skip in his step.
His poor neighbour, Mrs Laud, a full bosomed kindly old lady who sported a purple rinse and a love of cats stood aghast as he greeted her with a “Shove your good morning up your bottom” as she was bringing in the milk. She was still stood there quite speechless as Jonathan’s front gate snapped closed and he headed for the bus.
Afterwards 